


Ulcer

by AgentOHare



Series: Transformers MTMTE Vore and other sins [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Camera, Cyclonus is worried boyfriend, M/M, Medical, MicroMacro, Shrinking, Stomachache, Vore, hunger, not a direct sequel to Rest and Digest sorry, willing vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 17:19:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12089715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOHare/pseuds/AgentOHare
Summary: Tailgate's tank has been hurting for a week now. Cyclonus thinks it's about time he went to the medbay...





	Ulcer

_ “Ohhhhhh… _

Tailgate moaned, pressing his hands to his aching tummy. He was being tormented by this tankache for a whole week! What did he do to deserve this?

Meanwhile, Cyclonus eyed his lover from across the room with unseen worry. Tailgate had begun complaining of abdominal pains a week ago. The minibot insisted that the pains would go away on their own, but time disproved that theory. In fact, the cramps got  _ worse.  _ The jet was understandably concerned by now. He didn't show it, but it hurt him to see his little buddy in pain like this. What if something was seriously wrong?

Cyclonus spared another glance to Tailgate, only to see him in a fetal position on his recharge slab in a last-ditch effort to alleviate his pain. His visor a sickly shade of powder blue, the minibot let out a spark-breaking whimper as more pain flared in his stomach. He curled up into an even tighter ball as he felt yet another searing stab from his innards. 

Shaking his head, Cyclonus decided that enough was enough.

“Tailgate.”

The bot in question looked up from his curled up form.

“Y-yes, Cyclonus?”

“I believe it's about time you went to the medbay.”

Tailgate hoped that Cyclonus was joking, but the warrior looked dead serious.

“Do I have to?” He whimpered with equal parts fear and pain.

Cyclonus went up to Tailgate and looked him straight in the optic.

“Your pain has only grown since it started. I do not think that it will go away by itself.” He placed a reassuring hand on Tailgate’s shoulder. “There is nothing to be afraid of. I will come with you, my sweet.”

Tailgate’s visor flashed with emotion. “ _ R-really?” _

Cyclonus smirked.

“Really. Now let's go before the medic loses any more sleep.”

….

Tailgate now sat on a berth in the medbay. Normally, he would be swinging his legs to and fro off the edge, but now any kind of movement hurt his belly; it had been hard enough walking here. In fact, Cyclonus had to carry him down the last stretch. The only sign that Tailgate was alive was the fact that he was shaking like a leaf, curled into a miserable little ball next to Cyclonus.

Cyclonus sat at his side, an arm around the poor little bot. The jet had questions. Ratchet left to find Drift, and he didn't know where First Aid went, so who would be treating Tailgate? If anyone even came, how would the treatment work? Would it hurt Tailgate? The poor thing really didn't need any more stress at the moment...

Cyclonus was brought out of his thoughts when Tailgate gasped at a new burst of pain and curled in tighter. The poor little guy started to sob from the pain. Cyclonus began to rub Tailgate’s back in slow circles, and the minibot’s tension fell somewhat. 

“It's going to be okay, Tailgate. The medic will be here soon, whoever they are.”

Just then, a voice was heard from the doorway.

“Ello there! What seems to be the problem?”

The voice belonged to a blue minicon, yellow optics shining brightly. An odd choice for a medic, Cyclonus thought, but if she was certified then he didn't have a problem with it. Tailgate looked up weakly.

“A-are you the doctor?”

The minicon’s face softened upon seeing Tailgate, maternal instincts kicking in full drive. He was just too  _ cute,  _ and cute things shouldn't be in pain!

“Yes, yes I am. The name’s Nano. Can you please tell me your symptoms?”

Tailgate shuttered his optics and groaned as he felt another stab of pain.

“My fuel tank hurts so  _ baaad… _ ”

“Okay sweetie, let me just pull up your medical file…” Nano fiddled with her datapad, looking over the facts. Tailgate, over six million years old(!), cybercrosis survivor(!!). She formed an idea as to what was wrong with him, but confirmation was needed. The minicon turned to her patient and lowered her visor, scanning him. Her visor shone all sorts of colors before it went black to display the results.

“All right. My medical file says you're six million years old, Tailgate. You've got quite a bit of internal wear and tear. According to my scan, it appears that your pain is being caused by an ulcer in your fuel tank lining.”

Tailgate looked confused and a little scared, waiting for Nano to go on.

“In layman’s terms, an ulcer is a hole in the fuel tank.” She glanced at Tailgate who looked horrified. “Don't worry, it isn't serious, and I'll have you know that I am one of the most equipped in my field to treat this.”

With that, Nano scampered off to gather her tools, returning in a sparkbeat.

“So how is this procedure going to work?” Cyclonus asked. “How deep will you need to cut?”

The little cutie even had a big, protective boyfriend!  _ Squee! _

“Oh, I'm not going to cut.” Nano said reassuringly.

Cyclonus cocked an optic ridge. “Then how, pray tell, will you repair Tailgate’s fuel tank?”

“Simple.” Nano said plainly. “I'll go down, apply medication, and seal the hole with a mesh patch.”

“W-What do you mean by ‘ _go_ _down_ ’?” Tailgate asked uneasily.

“You'll swallow me.”

It took a few kliks for the information to sink in.

“HUH!?”

Tailgate had a deer in the headlights expression, while Cyclonus shot Nano a fearsome glare. Said minicon realized her mistake and decided to elaborate.

“Sorry, I should probably explain. I’m equipped with medical grade shrink technology. It'll be like taking a pill. Once I do my thing, I'll be out in a flash. Literally.” She pointed to a little capsule across the room. “I’m connected to a teleporter pad. And yes, I'm medically licensed to do this.” Nano held up her authentication card. “It’s not gonna hurt, I promise, and it'll be over with before you know it. So what do you say?”

Tailgate felt utterly  _ weird _ about the procedure. He looked to Cyclonus for help, who appeared to be thinking before he turned.

“Tailgate, if the doctor says this is the best way, then I think you should go through with it.” 

That settled it. With that, the minibot looked at Nano and nodded.

“All righty then. I'll connect my camera to this screen so you can see what I'm doing. Now, I’m going to need you to open your oral port for me. When I signal you, I want you to put me in and swallow.” Utilizing the same size shifting tech as Soundwave and his cassettes, Nano shrank down to the size of a Cybertronian drinking pill. Standing on the berth she took out some axle grease and rubbed it all over herself so she would go down easier. When she was finished, she looked up at the comparatively massive Tailgate and waved at him.

At this, Tailgate carefully picked up Nano. He opened the latch in his facemask to reveal his oral port, a conical hole that was lined with taste receptors and ended at the throat valve. He brought Nano to the port and gently set her inside, closing the latch behind her. He tasted the savory axle grease covering her, helping him to overcome the mental barrier and pretend that Nano was just a piece of fuel. Tailgate closed his optics, and with a single gulp Nano was easily sent down his throat.

It took about six seconds for Nano to reach Tailgate’s fuel tank, landing with a thud. His hand flew to his stomach in surprise.

“Whoa, I actually  _ felt  _ that!”

As Nano got her tools out, the owner of the tank watched the medical screen curiously.

“Is that what my fuel tank looks like inside? Weird.” Cyclonus nodded in agreement. Tailgate jumped a little upon feeling a little fluttering sensation in his belly. The camera swerved to show an ugly-looking patch in the metallic yet flexible wall of the tank.

“Okay, this is our ulcer. It's a bit deep, but it's nothing I can't fix.” Nano rummaged through her toolbox to bring out some salve and sealant. The salve- a special pain reducing ointment- was rubbed liberally in the wound. Tailgate shuddered with pleasure at the numbing effect, which had the unfortunate side effect of throwing Nano around a bit. The camera went blurry for a few moments as she tried to right herself. Once she did, Nano proceeded to add a layer of sealant on top to prevent any more digestive solvent getting in the wound.

From the outside, Tailgate visibly relaxed as the salve did its work. Eventually, the fire in his belly died down to a dull throb. Finally, Nano laid a roll of metal mesh over the ulcer. 

“Hey Tailgate?” She called.

“Yes?”

“I'm about to weld the mesh on. I'm gonna warn you, this'll sting.” Concentrating, Nano took her irin to the mesh and welded it in place. Tailgate cringed, throwing her against the wall. Apparently she had hit a tender spot…

Whatever, nothing a quick massage can't fix.

“There we go, sweetie. All done! How do you feel?”

“Better than I have all week! Thank you, Nano!”

“Aww, you're welcome!” It just made her feel  _ so good  _ inside to make the cutie feel better. With that, Nano pressed a few buttons on her control interface and teleported out. Once she was on the teleporter pad, she returned to normal size. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she saw the bliss in Tailgate’s body language, lying against Cyclonus peacefully. Even the jet wore a little smirk- just a  _ little _ one. 

The peaceful moment was interrupted by a sudden gurgling noise. Tailgate rubbed his stomach in response.

“I'm hungry…”

“Sorry kiddo, but you've gotta wait three hours before eating so the sealant can set.”

“Aww, do I have to? I'm  _ starving! _ ” The minibot hadn't eaten much before because of the pain, and now it came back to bite him.

  
“I'm afraid so…” Nano chuckled. In response, Tailgate groaned, but not in an overly rude or hostile way. After all, the week-long tankache was gone, so he could handle three hours  _ easy _ .


End file.
